‘I had thought, for some days, of putting Dellon’s book into the Inquisitor’s hands; for if I could get him to advert to the facts stated in that book, I should be able to learn, by comparison, the exact state of the inquisition at the present time. In the evening he came in, as usual, to pass an hour in my apartment. After some conversation I took the pen in my hand to write a few notes in my journal; and, as if to amuse him, while I was writing, I took up Dellon’s book, which was lying with some others on the table, and handing it across to him, asked him whether he had ever seen it. It was in the French language, which he understood well. ‘Relation de l’ Inquisition de Goa,’ pronounced he, with a slow, articulate voice. He had never seen it before, and began to read with eagerness. He had not proceeded far, before he betrayed evident symptoms of uneasiness. He turned hastily to the middle of the book, and then to the end, and then ran over the table of contents at the beginning, as if to ascertain the full extent of the evil. He then composed himself to read, while I continued to write. He turned over the pages with rapidity, and when he came to a certain place, he exclaimed in the broad Italian accent, ‘Mendacium, Mendacium.’ I requested he would mark those passages which were untrue, and we should discuss them afterwards, for that I had other books on the subject. ‘Other books,’ said he, and he looked with an inquiring eye on those on the table. He continued reading till it was time to retire to rest and then begged to take the book with him. ‘It was on this night that a circumstance happened which caused my first alarm at Goa. My servants slept every night at my chamber door, in the long gallery which is common to all the apartments, and not far distant from the servants of the convent. About midnight I was waked by loud shrieks, and expressions of terror, from some person in the gallery. In the first moment of surprise I concluded it must be the _Alguazils_ of the holy office, seizing my servants to carry them to the inquisition. But, on going out, I saw my own servants standing at the door, and the person who had caused the alarm (a boy of about fourteen) at a little distance, surrounded by some of the priests, who had come out of their cells on hearing the noise. The boy said he had seen a _spectre_, and it was a considerable time before the agitations of his body and voice subsided.—Next morning at breakfast the Inquisitor apologised for the disturbance, and said the boy’s alarm proceeded from a ‘phantasma animi,’ a phantasm of the imagination.’